Chapter Eighteen
When Dane heard Charity scream he nearly charged across the sandy beach to her rescue thus alerting the hive of criminals of their presence. He would have too if his long time friend and fellow spy Alexander Hamilton, Marquess Cromwell had not held him down in his steely grip.
“You must wait my friend. All will be lost if we alert them of our presence now.”
“I must go to her. I promised to protect her.” Dane cut off from say more, the ache in his heart too visceral.
“Do not lose hope. If he is who you say then he will not harm her until he has you in his sights as well.”
“Not very reassuring Alex.” Dane replied dryly.
“They will not depart until the shipment arrives and is loaded aboard. There will be a great deal of commotion and confusion then. You should be able to sneak in among the men loading the crates, row across and sneak aboard to sweep in and rescue your lady love from the villian where upon she will fall into your arms forever grateful for her hero.” Alexander chuckled at his own joke.
“Tis no laughing matter Alex. I find myself quite taken with the girl, in fact I have asked her to marry me.” After a long pause he added, “Twice.”
“Twice?” Alex turned to stare at his friend in the dark surprised by the seriousness in his voice. “And I take it the chit refuse each time.”
“Yes, but I’m…”
“Smart girl,” Alex added with a smirk.
“Hadn’t Matherson sent you on assignment elsewhere?” Dane asked begrudgingly.
Alex snorted with mild distaste, “A wild goose chase after a murdered chemists child.”
“You don’t sound happy about that. What’s the problem, can’t you find him?”
“Oh I found her alright.”
“Her?” Dane couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. He could just imagine how Alexander’s overbearing controlling attitudes rubbed the girl the wrong way.
“Yes her and she is no child.” Alex snarled his displeasure, “She is the most exasperating, stubborn, argumentative, uncooperative irritating woman I have ever met.”
“Huh, sounds like your kind of woman.” Dane hid his snicker in his shoulder.
“Ha! Not a chance. I would not touch that woman if she were the last in England.” Alex knew he protest too loudly and that his friend could see right through him but he was not about to admit that the woman made his blood boil. That he a man accustomed to dominating some of the most beautiful women in the world, bringing them to their knees before him and being buried balls deep in royal quim, was laid low by a plain bluestocking in spectacles who was at this moment safely locked inside in a room at the Quacking Gull.
Their conversation had no further to go being interrupted by the jingling of harness as they watched the dark shapes of three heavy wagons slowly appearing over the edge of the cliffs above. The ascent was a slow and dangerous especially with the heavy cargo they carried and required that one wagon at a time make the treacherous journey.
Dane waited impatiently until the right moment presented itself then he and Alex snuck in among the men milling around on the beach. The first wagon had been unloaded and one longboat filled with crates was already making it way to the ship moored not far off shore while a second longboat was being loaded. Dane made his way over hoping that is disguise of open shirt, rolled up pant legs and bare feet were enough to get by with in the dark. He was just about to grab one end of a crate when a voice hollered at him.
“You there leave that. Come help with this other wagon.”
Dane turned to see the second wagon the horses strain against the harness as the wheels sunk into the sand. Other sailor were scrambling to lighten the load by removing heavy crates filled with weapons and ammunition. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to climb aboard the next longboat Dane retraced his steps back when the sailor was distracted and had his back turned. The boat looked about to push off so he ran down to the shore grabbing the arm of the nearest sailor about to jump aboard. With a gruff warning he sent him off to help with the second wagon while he jumped aboard.
With its heavy burden the longboat road low in the water and rowing across the inlet to the awaiting ship seemed to take hours. Dane sat at the stern his nerves wound tight with worry over Charity. It had been nearly two hours since Count Delandine had taken her aboard, any number of things could have happened by now. Things he did not even want to contemplate.
∞∞∞
Charity stumbled across the floor when Philippe pushed her through the door keeping her hands out in front to brace against anything she might slam into and trip over.
“Make yourself comfortable mon petit. I have matters to which I must attend but fear not we will become better acquainted before the Duke arrives.”
A shudder to revolution snaked over her skin with the suggestive way he spoke but before she could form a reply he had closed the door locking her inside.
Charity knew that she couldn’t get off the ship on her own but she was not going to stand there like a helpless ninny waiting for Dane to rescue her. In fact she hoped he would not come for her. The way she had rejected his offers of marriage tossing his honor back in his face as if it meant nothing were good reasons for him not to come for her.
She was strong and capable and she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. She would search the room for anything that could be used as a weapon to defend against the man who had clearly lost his mind. There had to be something in the room to aid in her escape.
After what seemed a long frustrating hour Charity plopped down on a chair in utter defeat. She found not one single item that she could wield as a weapon. Other than a few rolled lengths of parchment that she took to be nautical maps or charts and a dozen or so leather bound books anything heavy that could be used to bash him over the head was fastened down. She couldn’t render him unconscious with a volume of poetry and inkwells and quills were useless. There was nothing sharp or threatening to wield as a knife and no cord which to restrain him should she be so lucky as to incapacitate him long enough to tie the villain up.
The gravity of her situation hit her, she was alone and completely defenceless against a madman who meant who hinted at his intentions were more than to just kill her. He meant to force himself upon her, violating her body and degrading what she and Dane had shared. But she would fight him with every ounce of her strength before she would allow him to touch her. Yet in the end she knew she was not strong enough to fend him off forever, he would use her for his own pleasure and when he was finished with her he would kill both her and Dane.
Overhead she could hear orders been shouted out, the tread of feet quick to carry out those orders and groans as if the men were straining under a heavy burden. This was followed by a thump like something heavy being dropped and then more groans and thumps. Obviously cargo was being brought aboard and since it seemed she was brought to a secret location Charity could only guess that it was something illegal. She had never heard of sea captains smuggling goods out of England before and couldn’t fathom what they could be loading aboard.
The scrap of a key turning in the lock brought Charity back to her situation and when Philippe stepped through the portal she began to shake all over. Her breath was short and her palms slick, she rose out of her chair. His voice when he finally spoke to her as an Englishman was so close that she jump a little she had not heard him approach over the roaring in her ears.
“Your lover I am certain will be on his way to you soon,” he grazed his fingers down her cheek, “but it is of no matter, he will be too late to stop me from taking what I have wanted all that time you were in my home. Maybe I will even force him to watch while a take you again.”
“I will fight you to the end,” she defiantly swatted his hand off her cheek, refusing to cower under the threat of her lost virtue. She pushed against his chest and though he was not as solidly built as Dane her meager strength was not enough to move him.
He dragged her hard against him, his fingers biting into the flesh of her arms as he chuckled. “Good I prefer my woman with some spirit, it makes breaking them that much more satisfying.”
His mouth slammed down on hers hard and punishing scraping the soft inner skin of her lips against her teeth. His tongue pushed and probed demanding entrance but instead of granting it she sunk her teeth in. Her mouth filled with the taste of copper and he screeched pulling away cursing. She spat the blood and saliva at him not caring where it landed. In the next instant his hand connected with her cheek the force spinning her to fall against the table behind her. Charity pushed off the table but he was upon her too quickly and he trapped her there with his body behind her. His hand buried in her hair the pain stinging her eyes as he wrenched her head back to rest on his shoulder. He pressed his mouth to her throat, his breath hot and wet from his labored breathing.
“As you have drawn blood so shall I.” His threat was low and wrought with meaning and Charity knew that she would suffer unimaginable thing at his hands before he was finished with her.
Reaching around with both hands he grasped the edge of her bodice and rent the the fabric from top to waist in two. Screaming when his hand roughly pushed in her chemise to fondle her breast, his fingers squeezing, pinching, bruising.
Charity felt cool air hit the back of her legs, knowing his intent she renew her struggles against him. Stomping on his foot, elbowing him in the ribs until he forced her to bend over her front pressed onto the cold surface of the table. He held her there with a powerful hand on the back of her neck as he continued to raise her skirts. Ripping loose the drawstring on her undergarment he pulled them off her body leaving her bare and completely exposed.
Charity, her throat raw continued to scream and fight. Her mind rebelling against what was happening to her wanted to shut down, block everything he was doing from her conscious but she refuse to give up, refused to give him what he wanted without a fight. She could feel him fumbling at the buttons on the fall of his trousers and clamped her thighs together as tight as she could. Her body stiffened preparing for the assault she knew was about to happen.
When she heard him curse she realized that above the sound of her pounding heart and harsh breaths she could hear pounding feet, loud shouting and even gunfire. Her heart leapt with the hope that Dane had found her.
That hope was answered seconds later when the cabin door burst open with such force that it slammed into the wall behind. The Frenchman was too quick and he had Charity off the table, turned in his grip and held in front of him before Dane would fire upon him.
“Let her go this instant doctor or Count or whoever you are. There is no escape for you now.”
Charity’s heart soared at hearing Dane’s voice once more but it soon crashed to earth when she felt the cold steel of a pistol muzzle pressed to her temple.
“Not a step further Your Grace or I’ll put a bullet through her pretty head.”
Charity whimpered at his steely cold words, she had no doubt that he would not hesitate to carry out his threat. Her hands automatically began to twist in the folds of her skirt.
“Harm her in any way and I promise you I will see that you suffer every imaginable sort of pain a man can endure.” Dane responded, his voice low and menacing would make even the stoutest of men cower.
Philippe returned with a mocking laugh, “You English think you a so clever yet I, the L’ombre Du Trépas lived among your kind for years and I will live to do so again now that I have you both where I want.”
Charity’s hands twisted as overhead the sounds of fighting intensified, rapid gunfire was being exchanged and the clash of swords rang on the night air.
“Yes, you will, in the most luxurious deep, dank cell in the dirtiest darkest prison we have to offer.”
Charity felt something solid in the pocket of her skirt, reaching inside her fingers wrapped around the large darning needle she used to write her music sheets and messages. She carried it with her at all times keeping it wrapped in a handkerchief. Heart racing with trembling fingers she fumbled with the small square fabric trying to unfold it without alerting her captive to her actions. She wanted to cry in frustrations as her fingers tangled in the cloth and she pricked her finger on the sharp point.
“It is not I that will be in the dirt Your Grace. I will see you in the grave soon just as you were meant to be the night of the ball.”
“You surprise me. I thought the Shadow of Death was this legendary assassin yet a slip of a girl manage to thwart your plans.”
A breath caught in her throat when she heard Dane taunting the man that held her captive.
“But then she can needle the patients of any sainted man stumbling around in the dark the way she does.”
Now she understood, he was trying to tell her he knew what she was about.
“She was not supposed to be there, who brings a blind invalid to a ball.”
Extracting the large needle from her pocket, her hand shaking uncontrollably she thought she might drop it. She squeezed her hand tight around it, and drew in long steady breaths as she closed her eyes trying to picture in her mind the angle needed to inflict the most damage. She prayed it would be enough to allow Dane to incapacitate the traitor and assassin. But she didn’t have much time as she felt his body relax and shift. Remembering how fast the Shadow of Death’s reflexes are she suddenly realized his intent and without further thought she through her hand up and over her shoulder.
A scream of pure pain ripped from his throat as he stumbled back pushing her away from him at the same time a gunshot exploded in the air around them.
∞∞∞
Dane heart squeezed painfully in his chest when he had burst through the door and seen what was being force on Charity. He felt sick to think that if he had been even five minutes later.
He kept his pistol leveled on the coward using the woman he loved as a shield. Every part of him wanted to strangle the life out of the traitor for what he has put Charity through and then he’d put a bullet through his head just for good measure.
Getting aboard the ship hadn’t been difficult once the longboat moored alongside and the heavy crates were hauled up one at a time. Once deckside it took Dane a few minutes to locate the hatch and he was moving toward it when he heard Charity scream but that was when all hell broke loose. Swarming over the opposite side of the ship were the blue uniforms of the Royal Navy, soon the deck was a boiling mass of traitorous sailors and those loyal to the crown. Bodies slammed into him and when a navy officer turned his attention on him Dane, being armed with only a one shot pistol he grabbed a keg of rum and raised it just in time to stall a killing blow from the man’s sword.
Fending off his attacker with the wooden keg until he was able to convince the fellow that he was indeed on the English side Dane hearing more screams from below flung himself down the stairs and burst into the room just before the Count Delandine defiled the only woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
The few feet that separated them seemed like a giant chasm with no clear shot to be had. He would not risk harming Charity but then he saw her digging inside her pocket and remembered her telling him once about the large needle she carried with her. Understanding dawned and though everything in him wanted her to stop, that the danger to herself was too great he knew this was something he had to let her do. He had to give her this small thing in order for her to come out of this with any sense of worthiness.
He understood that she needed the power that came from defending herself. That survival by her merits was the one thing she had desired all along. She had been taken care of by everyone, Hubert, Violet, himself and even Dr. Phillips in his own strange way had all taken the decisions of how she would live away from her. Now when her very life was on the line was when no one but Charity had the right to decide how that would come about he knew he had to give her this gift. So in the only way he knew he told her that it was alright, that she could make the decision of how she was going to survive, how she would live.
She moved quicker and with more verity than he expected but when the Shadow of Death swung his weapon in his direction Dane did not hesitate. His aim was true and Dr. Phillips, Count Delandine, the Shadow of Death or by what other name he went by laid with blank lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, a trickle of blood running down from the center of his forehead.
Gathering Charity in his arms, her small frame fit so perfectly against him, he held her until the tremors racking her body stilled. She clung to him as he caressed her back and whispered in her ear. When she pushed away as if to break their contact he would not let her retreat, instead he tipped her mouth up and covered it with his.
Never had a kiss been so sweet, so rewarding or tantalizing and he would have gone on for as long as she kissed him in return had it not been for Alexander bursting through the door.
“I hate to interrupt this touching reunion but the fighting continues on shore.”
“Alright my love?” Dane inquired of Charity with an affection he could not keep from his voice, nor did he want to.
Her brows knit together but she nodded and he soon had her aboard the longboat with him and Alexander. Once it scraped bottom he jumped over the side reaching in to lift her into his arms. It felt good to hold her against him and he longed to the moment when they could be alone so he could do more than just hold her.
Most of the fighting was happening farther away from the shore but as soon as Dane let Charity’s feet slip to the sand Daniel came rushing over.
“Your Grace, most of the Flying Anne’s crew are captured, dead or wounded but Miss Benavidez has eluded us. She was seen just moments ago riding off in that direction.” He pointed down the beach to where a rocking outcropping hid everything behind it. Maria could not be seen in the faint moonlight. “Shall I pursue?”
Dane did not want to have to leave Charity again but his assignment had been to observe and apprehend the Spanish woman and it was his duty to carry out his orders. They would be his last he had decided for he had no wish to leave Charity’s side ever again.
“No Daniel you have this mess to attend to, Miss Benavidez is my responsibility.” He told the younger man before turning to Charity. Taking her by the arms he pulled her to him again, pressing his lips to her forehead he said against her soft skin, “I hate to leave you again my love but…” She let him go no further.
“Of course you must go after her Your Grace. You have a duty to perform.”
Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in to bestow a gentle kiss before saying, “I promise to return to you with all haste. There is much I wish to say and look forward to the time when we can be alone again. Promise you will wait for me.”
“The longer you delay the greater distance she puts between you.”
He was about to demand her promise when Alexander interrupted delaying his words, “She is right Dane, the lady gets away.”
Cursing Dane brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her with a fervor he hoped conveyed all his love and longing for her. He willed her to hear what he was not willing to say for the first time while they had an audience.
“Stay with Alexander. He will see you safely returned to the cottage.”
With deep regret and a strange sense of foreboding Dane grabbed the reins and swung into the saddle of the horse Daniel had brought over to him. One last look at the woman who held his heart in her hands he dug his heels and sent the steed into a gallop, sand flying into the night breeze behind them.
His heart was racing and his breaths were coming hard and fast but the headlong pace in which he rode had nothing to do with it. He had a feeling that he had just made the worst decision of his life and a small voice in his head was telling him to turn back. But the trained agent in him refused to listen. He had never been a man to leave a job undone and he would perform this one last duty and then he would make things right with Charity.